“It was more than two weeks ago.”
Abe nodded hardheartedly. “All the more reason.”
“Well,” said Merry, “I've got obligations.”
“Oh,” said Abe, “you've got obligations.”
“Obligations I can actually meet or exceed.”
“Well,” said Abe. “Nevertheless we've got to go. Now. Roods is going to get the key from the mayor and there's probably going to be hell to pay, so unless you and the other students want to get caught in the crossfire--”
“Abe, stop,” said Merry forcefully. “I don't think you understand.” She raised her voice then, turning her head toward the door. “Hey! Tym! Abe says his partner's here, trying to steal the key!”
“I'll tell her!” came the reply from rooms away, sounding mostly not-angry at having witnessed that kiss. But only mostly.
“What was that?!” Abe leaned over to look through the doorway to the party beyond. “I have to go find Roods.” Then he turned to focus on Merry. “Why are you helping her, anyway? And Tym? He was definitely an unwilling traveler this morning!” Abe couldn't see Roods anywhere, but he had a fair idea of where Tym was. He put a hand on Merry's shoulder and pushed her aside as he started toward the door across the hall. “Tym!”
“Abe, stop it!” Merry reached out and caught his jacket as he pushed past her. He ignored her and she yanked, pulling open the coat enough for her to see his gun (and, incidentally, pulling out some of the stitching that had been done in a hurry by a tailor who knew suckers when he saw them). “You're armed!?”
Abe pulled his jacket away from her and jerked it closed. “Of course I am.”
“What exactly is it you think you're here to do?”
“I came to save you, Merry.” Abe said it flatly and truthfully, but as soon as he did he thought it sounded quite bold. “And to get some answers. Tym!” He started for the door again.
And Merry stopped him with a blast of flame from her hand. It was small and it was several feet in front of him, a warning shot, obviously. “I don't need saving and you're in over your head. Again.” She pointedly wiped her lips as if kissing Abe had been disgusting and had left some sort of residue. “You should go find Mr. Roods and leave before you ruin everything.”
Abe glanced nervously at her outstretched hand. “I don't understand, Merry.”
“Obviously,” she said.
“But I don't give a damn about Roods. I've been beating myself up about letting you get killed for weeks and I'm not just going to run off now.”
“I didn't get killed, Abe.”
“Well, be that as it may, I'd rather help you than Roods.”
“Not as good a kisser?” Merry said with a straight face that was more of a struggle than Abe was able to discern.
He couldn't quite keep from blushing again. “I... I hope to never find out.”
“That was for Tym, actually,” Merry said. “So don't get any ideas. You're old enough to be my...” she wrinkled her nose as she searched for the word. Abe was smitten. “...older brother? Uncle, I suppose, if one of my parents had been far and away the eldest.”
“I hope you don't kiss your brother like that.”
“Just so long as I don't kiss Tym like that...”
“You kissed Tym!” Abe's voice raised in shock.
From deeper in the house, apparently having heard his name, Tym shouted back, “Merry, we're going!”
Merry put her hand on Abe's lapel and raised her brows to silently ask if he was coming. She pulled gently as she started to walk, leaving him to follow, which he was about to do when there was a gunshot from out amongst the guests.
3.
Abe had his revolver in his hand as he stupidly pushed through the crowds of well-dressed Darbyshirites who were doing the smart thing and running away from the gunfire. Abe was moving through the screaming, fleeing people toward the rapidly-expanding empty space around, he assumed, Roods and at least one corpse.
When he got through the last of the fleeing people, however, he was pleasantly surprised to see Roods and zero corpses, despite having clearly heard at least two gunshots.
Abe came through the throng in what was the central architectural feature of the manor, the element around which the party (and indeed the house) was built. It was a large sweeping staircase that began as two separate flights that curved elegantly together at the landing for the second floor where they fused into one wide marble flight of stairs to wind in a single tight spiral up to the third floor. Abe immediately imagined how much fun it would be to slide down the banister. The ceiling went up nearly twice as high as the stairs here, ending in a peaked glass ceiling that made the roof seem transparent to the casual eye. It was a glorious feat of design, and Abe was completely failing to appreciate it.
He saw Roods immediately; the tall man was backed up against the wall opposite the two staircases with his gun to another man's head. A few steps away from him was the start of a streak of blood that marred the pale coral marble floor and led in grotesque smears across the room to the foot of one of the flights of stairs. There were several people gathered around a man with a bloodless face, all trying to be useful in arresting the bleeding of his now-useless left leg. That must've been the result of the gunshots Abe had heard, but Roods wasn't looking at that man and Abe followed his companion's gaze to see the real threat.
He raised his gun as he turned toward the foot of the other flight of stairs and there was The Lady Abe knew as Lady Darbyshire. “Mr. Crompton,” she smiled. She was resplendent in a red so deep Abe thought for a moment that she had been wounded as well. Behind her were a half-dozen young people, all dressed to the nines. Abe didn't recognize most of them, but one was definitely Winchell. He pointed his gun at the small boy and let it waver back and forth between him and The Lady.
“Wh... what do I call you?” Abe asked, his voice shaking as he dared to look back toward Roods for a signal as to what they were doing.
“They call me The Lady here, Mr. Crompton. I'd have thought you'd learned at least that much.”
“No, I got that. It's just that it's difficult to address someone directly with that name. 'Lovely to see you Miss The Lady,' 'hell of a party you've thrown The Lady,' see what I mean?”
Her smile was warm, but it didn't reach her eyes. “M'lady is acceptable, Abnerssen.”
Abe nodded and wiped his forehead with his free hand while he kept the gun held waveringly on The lady and her students. “Right. So, M'lady, why is Mr. Roods pointing a gun at that fellow?”
“Why don't you ask him?” She said.
Abe rolled his eyes and lowered his gun slightly as he turned his head toward Roods. “Well?”
Roods tightened his grip on the man in response to something he saw and shouted, “Whoa! Not another inch, M'lady, or your man gets it! Abe, keep your gun on her, please, and pull the trigger if she moves her damned hands.”
Abe groaned, but he raised his gun and turned back toward The Lady. She obligingly held her hands still and let her elegantly-shaped brows rise. “Why are you doing what he asks?”
“He said please...?” Abe shrugged. He didn't take his eyes off The Lady. “Roods, what is going on? Who is that man?”
“Mayor. Or he will be tomorrow.”
The man he was holding at gun point, a small bald man with enormous glasses and the worst sort of mustache, said, “My friend, I appreciate your assumption, but there's still the matter of the plebiscite.” Roods pushed the barrel of his pistol into the man's temple and he promptly shut up.
“Does he have the key, then?” Abe spoke from the side of his mouth but kept his eyes on The Lady.
“Nope,” said Roods. “Made a grab from the old mayor... that'd be him with the game leg—”
“It's not a game leg, you shot me!” The bleeding man cried out.
“Well, you didn't have the key,” said Roods.
“I don't have the key,” said Abe, “are you gonna shoot me?”
“I don't have the k
ey either,” said the man Roods was holding, his voice much more fearful than Abe's had been.
“I'd shoot everybody if it would get me the key,” said Roods.
Abe, his eyes constantly on The Lady, slowly backed up until he was beside Roods and the hostage. “You can't shoot everybody,” said Abe. Then, more quietly, “you've only got four more bullets... Does she have the key?”
“Yep,” said Roods.
“So now you're going to shoot me,” said The Lady theatrically, her voice projecting to every corner of the enormous room. “But just a few hours ago you were in my employ, isn't that right?”
Roods didn't respond except to tighten his hold on the man he was threatening.
“Sold your friend out for a pound of Spirit,” she said with a cruel smile that she soon turned on Abe. “Your partner agreed to betray you for drugs, Mr. Crompton.”
“A lot of drugs,” said Roods weakly.
“Well, at least you don't stay bought for very long,” said Abe. He wasn't quite as diligent about keeping his gun raised at the moment.
“Well, it won't be a pound of Spirit if she has her way. A pound of dirt's all I'll have if she gets that key to the clock tower!”
“That's an exaggeration,” said The Lady.
“No exaggeration that your key's worthless without your man,” said Roods.
She shrugged and waved her fingers slightly. “Abe!” Roods shouted.
“Abe!” Another voice, Merry's. Abe turned to the doorway where he heard her, his gun straying.
The Lady threw her hand out and a tiny yellow orb flew from her fingertips so fast it was more a fading yellow line suggesting trajectory than an object anyone could actually see. Roods pulled the trigger and Abe heard the distinct click as the hammer released, but there was no shot.
“What the—” Roods turned the gun to look and the man he held elbowed him in the chest and dove away. At the same time Merry ran to Abe and put her hand on his gun, lowering it as she held his gaze. Behind her was Tym, rushing in with his hand held out before him, a bluish sort of wave rising from his palm like heat off of a tar roof. Roods flew backwards into the wall, his legs crashing through a table as he rose up and hung in the air.
Tym moved his hand down and Roods slid down the wall, his knees bending as he was brought down to Tym's level. Tym's hand closed into a fist and he hit Roods hard in the face. All Tym's weight was behind the blow as was, possibly, his magic. At any rate, Roods fell down, bruised and unconscious.
The gun slid across the marble, a tiny yellow sphere keeping the hammer from connecting.
Chapter twenty-Six: Unsafe streets
1.
“Mr. Crompton,” said The Lady, “if you feel bound by loyalty to your friend, you are, of course, welcome to take him home.”
Abe looked down at the crumpled heap of Roods and then around the room. Roods had a thin trickle of blood escaping from the corner of his mouth and his small tinted glasses were badly askew, but he otherwise looked fine. The rest of the blood marring the fine-veined marble floor was from him as well, just not as literally. He'd shot the mayor of Darbyshire and tried to shoot the man who was, in all probability, going to be elected mayor tomorrow. The once and future mayors were huddled together at the foot of one flight of stairs, joining the throng of suited Darbyshirites who, until a few moments ago, were attending a fancy soiree.
At the foot of the other flight of stairs was the class of Lady Darbyshire's School for the Profoundly Gifted: the presumed dead young Mr. Winchell among them. Way in the back, peeking around the leg of a spindly boy with long hair and an impressive nose, was...
“Begonia?” Abe took a step forward, leaving his gun in Merry's hand as he squinted in the imperfect twilit light at the girl. She was, like the rest, dressed formally. Begonia was wearing a dark green gown with full skirts and long white gloves, the cut of her dress managing to suggest her proximity to childhood and her nearness to being a lady all at once. (Nearness to being an adult female, Abe corrected himself... Begonia cleaned up nice, but 'lady' seemed a stretch.) She smiled at Abe and gave a clumsy little curtsey.
One of the older boys arrayed behind The Lady tensed as Abe approached but The Lady raised her hand and tutted and he fell back into place. Abe was surprised, as he stood this close to her, to find that he had to look down to look her in the eye. Her slenderness and massive bun and hauteur had always made her seem impossibly tall, but she was hardly taller than Merry. “Begonia and Merry and Winchell are all alive?”
She nodded.
“And the others that were reported dead as well?”
Another nod.
Abe turned to look at Merry and Tym. They moved over toward the fallen mayor and gently moved people away from the man before Tym knelt beside his injured leg. This time his hands began to look as if they were being held before a strong light, the edges seeming to brighten and glow. He put his hands on the mayor's leg and the tension immediately drained from the old man's face. He sighed and smiled like a man whose troubles had all just been solved, relaxing into the arms of the party-goers who held him. Merry touched his shoulder tenderly and said, “The Lady never meant for anyone to be hurt, sir.”
He nodded rather dopily and smiled. Merry stood up and held Abe's revolver out to him, handle first.
“I don't understand,” said Abe.
“We're going to the clock tower,” said Merry. She pushed the gun into Abe's hand and closed his fingers over it with her own. “It's going to be dangerous on the streets for the next several hours, so you probably want to stay here for the night and then go home tomorrow.”
Abe didn't grip the gun. “So I'm to just go?”
The Lady nodded toward Roods. “With him, if you don't mind. He's going to be a handful, I imagine. Withdrawal can be ugly.”
Abe followed her gaze. Roods had betrayed him and The Lady for drugs. “I don't think he's going to quit.”
“I don't think that's going to matter,” The Lady said to Abe with absolute cool and then she stepped back onto the stair and raised her voice and her arms. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the evening's come to an end!” She was doing something intricate with her fingers as she spoke and Abe suspected he wasn't imagining the faint yellow tracers her saw. “I hope you all will forgive the interruption and will, of course, remember to vote tomorrow! Now, go home, all of you, with my blessing.” She raised her hands her voice then and said, “And stay indoors tonight!” It sounded to Abe as if the command were coming from all around rather than entirely from The Lady’s lips.
The room began to empty then, everyone moving as if in a trance, Abe thought. He felt an overwhelming desire to follow them, too... to drift out with the herd and shuffle off home to his warm bed and his cool pillow... to wake up refreshed with no obligations beyond casting his ballot and enjoying another seven years of prosperity. Of course, he had no way to get to his warm bed and he had not, until that moment, known that the mayor's term was seven years. He closed his eyes a moment and opened them resolutely to focus on Merry.
“I came to bring you home, and it's what I intend to do.” He finally gripped the butt of the revolver.
Merry reached up and touched his cheek. “That's sweet,” she said. Then she turned to The Lady. “He does have a gun.”
“Did you see how he was holding it?” Tym moved past Abe to stand on the stairs with his classmates. He was much bigger than the others, and was the only one with a glower on his face. “Besides, I knocked him out myself. One punch.”
The Lady looked as if she thought this was a fair point.
“Well, what about this morning?” said Merry. “You left him alone with...” She didn't seem to want to say exactly what it was that Abe had been left to contend with.
“He killed it.” It was little Begonia's voice from way in the back of the crowd. “An' it's more than a match for Tym's stupid punches.” Abe did not have time to consider how Begonia knew about his fight with the shape-shifting monster.
The L
ady drew in a breath and gave a sort of nod and then looked at Abe with a smile. “All right. We're on our way then. Mr. Sarwell?”
The man Roods had been threatening moments earlier stepped forward. He was the only Darbyshirite who had been unaffected by whatever The Lady had done, and was therefore the only conscious man in the room not Abe or a student. He stood at attention in a manner that suggested a military background (or perhaps that The Lady hadn't entirely left him out of her spell). “Your honor, if you would please go with Mr. Wharmley to fetch your coat.”
Tym stepped forward with a bit of a chip on his shoulder and led Sarwell out of the room. The Lady waited a moment longer before she turned to Abe. “Your friend,” she gestured toward the unconscious Roods, “chose to shift his allegiances to the troll when Mr. Wharmley let slip that our goal would render Spirit impotent.”
Abe had gathered that much from Rooftop, but he nodded all the same. “Why would you want to get rid of Spirit?”
“The Spirit is an accursed poison,” said the tall lanky boy that Abe hadn't met. Based on his voice, it was possible the tall lanky boy was a tall lanky girl, “a wicked vice that weakens the--”
“That's enough!” The Lady said, cutting the student off. “Mr. Crompton I could not possibly care less about Spirit. The change to the nature of Spirit is a tangential side-effect of our goal being met.”
“Right,” said Abe. “And what is this goal that's worth taking on an entire criminal enterprise headed by a massive man-eating troll?”
“Rooftop?” said Begonia. “He ain't the head.”
“So there's more than him?”
“Mmm.” The Lady said. “You're welcome to back out, Mr. Crompton. There are probably a dozen trolls and gods knows what else between us and the clock tower.”
“And assuming you get to the clock tower... what happens then?”
“Then?” said The Lady, “everything changes.”
Abe rolled his eyes as he looked at Merry.
Merry shrugged.
And then the skylight shattered.
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